


The Talk

by zeltha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Humor, M/M, Puberty, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Sex Education, Sex Talk, The Talk, Young Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 13:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15752811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeltha/pseuds/zeltha
Summary: Lucius tries to give Dracothetalk, and from his own inability to explain things well about this matter, it can go very, very wrong.





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> for sophie [@gayydraco](https://www.instagram.com/gayydraco/?hl=en) on instagram!  
> \- i just couldn't resist to write our prompt! it was too hilarious to not be written, and i itch to see more of it; so i decided to write it myself! i got a little bit carried away and added elements that weren't previously in our prompt, i hope you like it though! <3

**1993**

 

“’Cissa, I am not mentally inclined for this.”

 

“Yes, you are,” she admonished, brushing the wisps of Lucius’ hair in front of the vanity. “Lord knows our son needs this, don’t cower away, now. This is your duty as his father.”

 

“I am very well aware of that- but why should I be the one doing this? Aren’t you more comprehensive in this field?” He groused, planting his face in his palms.

 

“Because, my dear husband, you are his father. I’m certain he’ll feel perturbed having his mother discuss how he woke up one night with his trousers wet?”

 

Lucius grumped, “And screaming like a madman, might I add.”

 

“Precisely, so you ought to go down to the _battlefield_ ,” she simpered, procuring a glare from Lucius. “And get this over with.”

 

Voice awfully strangled, he said, “Good God, I can’t do this whilst sober.”

 

-

 

 

“Dobby,” Lucius called, sitting uneasily in his seat. “Summon Draco over immediately.”

 

With a low bow and a muffled, _Yes, Master Lucius_ ; he gave it a second until he heard a faint crack of Apparition from the antechamber, reveling Draco adorned in his dark robes and hair tousled in result of the Apparition.

 

The boy traipsed his way towards the velvet settee of the parlour and onto Lucius that was still sat in his armchair, “You called for me, father?”

 

Draco’s voice considerably dropped an octave, dissimilar to his pitchy one from just the past year. Narcissa was right; he was growing rapidly.

 

“I believe I did. Sit, Draco.” He gestured.

 

He sat in the settee, fronting his father’s way as he nervously fidgeted with a loose thread of his robe.

 

“Have you any idea of why I called you over?”

 

Draco shook his head, “No, father. Did I get into any trouble?”

 

“I believe so.” At that, Draco’s eyes widened by a slight, fearing of whatever mistake he made that didn’t procure him. Lucius though, continued, “Puberty is indeed, one vast trouble.”

 

Oh.

 

His son seemed thoroughly awkward, squirming and fingers furiously fidgeting. He isn’t the only one that’s unsettled by this whole matter; Lucius himself felt the greatest need to gulp down a whole bottle of Cognac than ever.

 

 _Man up, Malfoy,_ Lucius chided himself mutely.

 

“You see, Draco; as you mature and stepping into adulthood, it’s a brand new world.” He harrumphed, clenching his fists. “You…will gradually find the opposite sex attractive.”

 

At this point being, Draco was outright shutting his eyes and taking deep breaths. In no way is _the_ Lucius Malfoy giving him the sex talk.

 

“And, er, as of the events of last night, when you found your trousers wet-“

 

Draco visibly reddened at this, mouth gaping and eyes horrified, in account of not believing that his own father is initiating this discussion with him, rather than berating him for soaking the expensive satin bed sheets.

 

How he’d be more willing to indulge in listening his father’s incessant tirades about how precious those satin bed sheets were, he’d do anything to not listen his father talk about Draco’s sudden puberty.

 

“Well, I believed that a sexua-” he coughed intrudingly, really not wanting to continue the sentence. “- _Improper,_ dream occurred to you.”

 

Eyeing the bottle of Cognac in the spirits rack, he realized how much needed it as if his life depended on it. He needed to be reunited with the love of his life.

 

Trailing off there, Lucius let the tension in the air soak into their muscles, and he dug his nails deep into the arm seat.

 

“And,” Lucius began again; already causing Draco to let away a sharp intake of breath. “You will grow hair, in unimaginable places. And, and, _hair_ , large amounts of them. Oh Salazar-“

 

Draco let out a low guttural noise of discomfort.

 

Lucius cleared his throat, “Well, uh, you need to know that others aren’t supposed to claw their way into your underwear before marriage.”

 

“ _Father!_ ” Draco yelped.

 

“Your mother is right, son; I should really be telling you all this, you shan’t copulate before wedlock, understand? Like your mother and I, for example, we were both virgins when we were married, and that will really benefit you two in the upcoming future, an-“

 

Lucius lost all his wits, he was suddenly struck by this washing sense of valor to tell his son _everything_ that is needed to be knew about maturity, transferring the marriage ideologies that were told by his own parents and passing it down to Draco.

 

“You shall find yourself a good pureblooded spouse, a nice, young girl from a family of wealth, perhaps. Whether the ties were formed by feelings or merely political relations, once you and your spouse are wedded, you will be able to produce a heir from there.” The man finished triumphantly and added, “A Malfoy heir.”

 

Draco was now inwardly petrified, eyes wide as saucers and unblinking, staring down at the patterned rug beneath him divertingly rather than listening to his father’s forced rants about adolescence.

 

As if snapped out of trance of his ramblings, all the previous things he said finally transpired into his mind piece by piece ⎯ Lucius, after looking towards his son’s way and seeing how he was ruby; flushed too in great embarrassment.

 

He’s now just praying to whatever force exists that his son won’t be scarred by his shite explanation. Awfully, horribly, shite explanation.

 

“Any queries?” He rasped feebly.

 

“No, thank you, father.” Draco managed to let out a weak response. Or a squeak, more like. Lucius frowned, _Malfoys don’t squeak._

 

“Son, I admit I am no expert in this area, and I will, in joy, end this discussion for the sake of both of our sanity, you will be conversing with your mother instead.” Lucius stood from his seat and hesitated, walking forward to Draco and gave him a reluctant pat in the back and registering how rigid his son was.

 

Did he really damage him that much?

 

Still stiffened by the whole mortifying chagrin, clearing his throat, he would finally reach his relief, “Dobby, get me that Cognac, _now._ ”

 

**2001**

“Draco.” Lucius _squeaked_ , “What I meant by you finding a good spouse for yourself, is not having Harry Potter!”

 

“Father, I am _not_ married to Harry.”

 

“You better keep that a vow, young man!”

 

“Mr. Malfoy, I trust that the only reason I came here is not to disrupt this meal-“

 

“Oh, Potter; you are _not_ disrupting at all, of course.” Lucius exclaimed sardonically, embittered.

 

“Lucius! Would you stop it?” Narcissa glared.

 

Dinner was a tense affair. What they hadn’t been expecting was an impromptu guest that is Harry Potter himself that apparently, is trying to wriggle his way into wooing Draco. That worm.

 

So really, it brought Lucius quite the nasty shock when Potter had stepped out of the Floo, trailing behind Draco that seemed nervous, as if expecting his impending doom.

 

 _Because he shall be expecting it,_ Lucius sulked whilst pivoting his wine glass.

 

“Well, Draco,” Narcissa started, stabbing through the strained air. “How long have you been seeing Mr. Potter here?”

 

Draco wringed his hands together apprehensively, until Harry laced his own hand with the latter in action of soothing down the knots of anxiety. Lucius wanted nothing but to purge.

 

Or have a drink or two.

 

Draco sent a small, soft smile along Harry’s way, which was replied back with an urging, encouraging one, “Two years, mother.”

 

“Two years!” Lucius cried, almost bending the fork in his hand.

 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I’ve been with your son for two years, courting and bedding him-“

 

“Bedding!” He yawped in disbelief.

 

Draco crimsoned in embarrassment, smacking Harry’s arm, as he perceived what he had said wrong. He had put his own boyfriend in a corner, and it’s likely of a chance that Lucius Malfoy’ll butcher them on spot soon.

 

But really, Harry wouldn’t let that happen.

 

“Are you saying that you’ve taken Draco’s virginity, before a sacred matrimony?” Lucius stabbed through his venison harshly.

 

“Oh, Lucius, just let the two be, will you?” Narcissa hissed. “Like you weren’t a randy prat yourself before our marriage!”

 

Draco’s eyes widened at his mother’s use of words, highly rare to see her take use of the word _“randy”_ and _“prat”_ , even. Is this a day of miracles?

 

Well, certainly it _isn’t_ a day of miracles, judging by how highly strung his father is by this whole ordeal. But Draco was surprised and of course, thankful that his father didn’t catapult hexes and curses all over the place. His tantrum is still bearable, being _Avada Kedavra’d_ is not.

 

Lucius spluttered, “But we hadn’t had intercourse until our wedding night in Italy!”

 

Feeling green, Draco pursed his lips, genuinely uneager to listen the rest of his parents’ sex lives. He drooped down on his seat, wishing that the abyss beneath would just swallow him whole whilst both of his parents were still bickering about it.

 

Harry that was sat beside him appeared to share the same discomfort as him. A cringe was etched all over his face, and he looked over to Draco that had shrunk himself in the chair.

 

“I expected your father being opposed to the idea of me with you, but what didn’t cross my mind are your parents squabbling about their sex lives.” Harry whispered with a slight snicker, making Draco flush even more in midst of the loud chatters of his parents.

 

Once the quarrels between the two have considerably died down, Lucius cleared his throat and veered his focus back to the young couple, “Didn’t you remember what I said? The puberty talk we had years past?”

 

“Ah yes, how could I not? That was mentally traumatic.” Draco muttered.

 

Lucius glared, “What did you pick up from it? Did you implement it to your current lifestyle? Because I’m not very sure about that.”

 

“The only thing I picked up is that I grew hair in places, father. The rest didn’t really stick into my mind.” Draco said, recoiling. “It was mother’s talk that I had gladly insert into my condition.”

 

“So I’ve been told. You didn’t find the opposite sex attractive,” He gesticulated to Harry that was now holding back a smirk. He resumed, although now with a prominent grimace, “And you aren’t a virgin anymore, out of wedlock!”

 

Harry drawled, “Mr. Malfoy _, Lucius_ ; would it help if I married Draco?”

 

It wasn’t sure whether the atmosphere dropped or rose; the three members of the Malfoys had fallen rigid at Potter’s sudden question. Narcissa was the only one that remained calm, though her eyes reflected something that Harry read as incredulity.

 

The other two Malfoys, though, weren’t so fortunate. Like father like son; both mouths had fallen agape, opening and closing paralleling a blob fish. Harry would’ve snickered at the sight if the air weren’t choking the four of them.

 

It was Narcissa that broke through, “As long as it makes my son happy, Mr. Potter, then you have my consent.”

 

Draco turned his vision to Harry’s, which held a hopeful gaze, “Did you really mean that?”

 

“Of course I do,” The bespectacled man seized both of Draco’s hands. “What is there to wait for again? We have our careers held before our eyes, and we are together long enough to know each other. And I want nothing but to spend the rest of my days with you. So I repeat, what is there left to wait?”

 

“My bloody approval is what, Potter!” Lucius cut in, face blemished red in swallowed fury.

 

“Don’t you want your son to be happy, Lucius?” Narcissa reproached, face tight. “What is so wrong about this situation anymore? Mr. Potter here has helped us with everything!”

 

Narcissa then leaned in into her husband’s pinna, whispering, and out of reach of the two boys, she said, “Please don’t tell me that it’s because Potter’s blood status.”

 

He wringed, and muttered back in a low tone, “Well, of course I do. And… _that_ doesn’t stop me! I still hold onto those ideologies but I will not practice it on this particular situation. What irks me is, Potter’s a man…”

 

Her face reddened in fury, and bellowed, “Is that what’s it about? Because who our son loves is _apparently a man?_ Is that what? I can’t believe you!” She stood up from her seat, rushing out of the dining.

 

Draco, concerned for his mother, stood up too and went after her mother’s whereabouts, “Mother!”

 

There was left now Harry Potter and Lucius Malfoy, sitting stiffly at each other’s presence, tension between the two impenetrable. Malfoy’s eye twitched at Potter’s gaze of determination.

 

“A second, Lucius,” Potter stood, walking over to the fireplace. “I have to get something from home.”

 

Reaching inside the alcove, Potter grabbed a handful of Floo powder. And with a loud ‘ _Grimmauld Place!_ ’ He disappeared with the ash.

 

Lucius grimaced, Potter lived in that shabby place. Possibly with Draco, too, since he had been very hesitant to tell about his current place of living.

 

He planted his face in his hands, rubbing it as he registered what he had done wrong. Had he overreacted?

 

Truly he wanted the best for his son, but what he couldn’t understand is why won’t he just stick with a rich, pureblood girl? Even if Potter’s name is more meaningful than the dirt ridden Malfoy name in today’s age.

 

Did he really care about Potter being a half-blood? That’s not the core center of what’s bothering him, as long as Potter had a respectable surname, then it’ll suffice for Lucius.

 

Lucius bitterly thought, _it’s not like they’ll be able to have an heir, anyways; no one to continue the lineage._

A sound of arrival from the _Floo_ snapped him out of his stupor, and Potter was there, dusting the remnants of the ashes. Nearing Lucius, he seemed to be rummaging something out of his trousers pocket.

 

And when Potter was sat, he fished out the object, which turned out to be a small box.

 

A black, velvet box.

 

Realization dawned upon Lucius.

 

“Do you know what this is?” He pushed the box towards Malfoy’s direction.

 

“A wedding ring.”

 

“Well spotted. And I am asking your blessing to marry Draco.”

 

Lips pursed, Lucius said, “What if I say no?”

 

“You know that won’t stop me,” Harry flattened. “But would you think about Draco? Would you give another chance for him to be happy?”

 

He spat, “What makes you think that you’ll make him happy?”

 

“I’ve certainly did a better job of putting a smile on his face better than all of your non-existents attempt these past years.”

 

Jaw clenched, Lucius was kept silent, until Harry continued, “You’ve screwed up the possible chances of him feeling happy all these years, dragging him to the matters of acquiring the _Dark Mark_ that he obviously hadn’t wanted in the first place. Do you even have any idea why he had gotten it? To protect his parents, _you and Narcissa_ , he’s sacrificed his everything to save you.”

 

“You don’t know anything about that.”

 

Harry laughed bitterly, “ _I_ don’t know anything about that? I’ve been forced to meddle with Voldemort and his precious cronies all my life, and I’ve been dealing with Draco’s nightmares that revolve around the shit you and Voldemort has given him all his life. And _I_ don’t know anything about that?”

 

“It’s time for you to start making sacrifices for him, Lucius.” Harry snarled. “He has made _enough_ for you.”

 

In a swift motion, the Gryffindor reached for his wine glass, chugging it down punctually, “He is not your puppet anymore, he is his own individual if you still can’t process that.” He said, voice rasp. “You have to stop controlling and dictating every bits of his doings, let him find his own happiness.”

 

Lucius was kept silent, staring down to the ground, akin to a child after scolding. The two of them were silent for a stint, until the older man spoke hoarsely.

 

“I only want a grandchild, Potter.”

 

Harry’s eyes flickered to Lucius Malfoy, softening. Harry had wanted kids for himself too, a family of own. _Hell_ , he’ll build his own Quidditch team consisting his own children if he could.

 

Surely, Harry had thought about this before and in midst of dating Draco. He _knew_ the consequences, what he’s able to have and what he can’t. But he loves him too much to leave him for not being able to give what he desired. Children.

 

It would be selfish for both Draco and him if Harry actually left him solely because their inability to have an heir. Adopting is always a choice, sure, but he wasn’t certain that they would accept two men seeking for a child, no matter how high Harry’s status is.

 

“We can always adopt.” Harry offered.

 

That seemed to raise Lucius’ mood by a bit, but he was still silent.

 

“Promise me you’ll take good care of him, Potter,” Lucius said sternly.

 

At the vague words of approval, a smile flew up Harry’s face, an expression rarely shown to Lucius Malfoy.

 

“I will. Thank you, sir.” He uttered, inclining his head. “I believe that Draco too won’t refuse to give you a chance, to be a better figure in his life.”

 

Lucius nodded stiffly, not having the possibility to respond since his wife and Draco had entered the room once again. Narcissa’s countenance was completely impassive, dangerously almost. Her usually immaculate hair was a bit tousled, but Lucius didn’t dare utter a word since in these times that she isn’t speaking, it usually is homicidal.

 

At the sight of Draco; Harry stood immediately, trampling his way towards him with an obnoxious, goofy grin. Wasting no time, he took the chance to grasp both pairs of Draco’s slender hands.

 

“What?” Draco said, stunned, although a tinge of hope was tinted all over his voice.

 

“I have a question to ask you.” Harry said, pulling out the black box from the hidden fist that was previously hid in his back.

 

Presenting the opened box, surprised gasps erupted from both Draco and Narcissa.

 

And really, Lucius had only wanted to reunite with his Cognac.

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd.
> 
>  **tumblr :** [@malvoi](http://malvoi.tumblr.com/)  
>  **wattpad :**[@verdilac](https://www.wattpad.com/user/verdilac)  
> 


End file.
